Like the bright red ladybug with seven spots
or the yellow-shouldered one,
I am like a ladybird, born to be vibrant and free,
In the garden of life, the egg was like my trundle,
In symbolic existence, which ladybeetle would you be?
A symbol of luck with a big heart in a very small bundle,

Like the dull red ladybird with two spots
or the orange nine-spotted one,
from eggs on a leaf, unnoticed yet a life takes flight,
I, too, grow, in life’s transformative sprawl.
Metamorphosis unfolds and it is a miraculous sight.
Tiny alligator larvae hungry for life though small,

Like the tan LadyBeetle with twenty spots
or the fifteen spotted other tan one,
molting and changing, shedding the past,
pupating in hope, dreams wrapped in a shell,
A journey like mine, from first to the last.
Emerging anew, Oh the tales that life tells.

Like the yellow ladybug with fourteen spots,
or the ladybeetle, you know the pink one.
Red with black spots is thought of as the classic attire,
Yet the yellow, orange, black, spots or not are also bright,
All the different colors abound, wearing rainbow’s entire.
Variety blooms, I bloom, like a kaleidoscope’s light.

Like the light red ladybird with eighteen spots
or the mealybug or large leaf-eating one.
Just like the ladybug, I cherish the quest,
I am a contribution- in my purpose, in my home.
Like these voracious predators in the garden, I roam,
To nurture, protect, and give life my best.

Like the other orange ladybird with ten spots
or the convergent, or the transverse one.
Months may pass, in the garden of time,
Gathering in numbers, in winter’s embrace,
A ladybug’s journey, a rhythm, a rhyme.
I find solace in shelter when I share in their space.

Like the other, other orange- thirteen spots
or the eyed, ashy gray or the steel-blue one,
in the cycles of life, a small deity,
Symbol of fortune, in each spot and hue,
I am like a ladybird, resilient and free,
I find my purpose, as I journey with you.